


Shared Sparks

by speccygeekgrrl



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-06
Updated: 2009-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 12:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened between Gabriel and Elle practicing his new power and the final scene in 3x09, "It's Coming."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shared Sparks

"Keep it up, you'll be a gunslinger in no time," Elle says, and watches the smile light up Gabriel's face brighter than a thousand-watt bolt between their hands.

"Thank you. It's amazing." He meets her eyes, smile fading to something gentle and awed, and she breathes in: ozone, burnt fabric, his sweat. She'd touched him so easily before, pulled his arm over her to direct his tentative lightning strikes, but now... now it wasn't so easy, now she knew the strength in those lean arms, the warmth of that sculpted chest.

"Thank you," she answers finally, and that seems to ease the way toward really comprehending the past hour, really forgiving him and herself. Gratitude is enough for now. Gratitude will get them pretty far, truthfully. She sets her hands on his hips, the line of black pants and pale skin setting a border, and when he curls an arm around her shoulders she goes willingly into his embrace, resting her head over his unstoppable heartbeat.

"I'm so full of energy right now. I feel like a battery about to overload," he confesses slowly, rubbing her shoulder and the nape of her neck. "I don't know how to deal with it yet."

"I can help you, Gabriel. Look..." At her full height, she was still below his shoulders; she cocks a hip and tugs at his arm. "Sit with me." She let him sit first, so she could watch him. Even as the naive, suicidal watchmaker, he'd had a sort of innate grace, but watching Gabriel move now was like watching a panther, a dolphin, some sleek brilliant form to match his mind. He falls into lotus position like he's been meditating for days on end, and she smiles as she goes down to her knees in front of him. Dark eyes meet hers, and she swears there's a hint of blue backlighting the dark-chocolate irises.

"What now?" he asks, and the rasp in his baritone eases when he speaks softly. Elle likes that, likes his voice when he's speaking just for her; she leans closer, sliding her hands on his where they rest on his knees. Tucking her feet under her, she settles as close to eye-level as she can get with him, and smiles.

"You have too much energy... you can waste it, work it off, or share it." She squeezes his hands, and they turn up, wide palms and strong fingers that she twines her fingers between. "Pick an option." She's smiling, but enigmatically-- he has to choose, because she knows what she hopes he'll pick, and that could end badly.

"Waste is out of the question. Working it off, or sharing it..." Gabriel squeezes her hands gently, a tickle of blue power wrapping around their clasps. "Don't have to be mutually exclusive?"

"Bright boy," she says, unironic and pleased while she shifts closer. "They're better when they're at the same time, I would imagine." She wants nothing more than to climb this man like a mountain, to straddle him and envelop him in her arms...

"Elle." He pauses with his lips so close to her skin that she can feel his trembling breath. "Share it with me for a while." Smiling, she tips her head up and finds that no healing ability can erase the lines of worry from Gabriel's brow, can put color back in the shadows under his eyes; he's beautiful, broken like her, broken but repairable by the right hands...

Their first kiss is quite literally electric.

The current flows through them, a circuit connected at lips and hands and knees, blue-white bliss just below the surface of their skin. Elle's back arches, and they both gasp as that brings them into contact from shoulders to stomachs.

Electricity runs back into Gabriel from Elle, of course, but it feels cleaner, purer, _different_ when it's been filtered through her tiny frame. She's intoxicating, even better than the thrill of a new power, solid and real in his arms. He kisses her until they're both breathless, until she tips her head back with a dazed smile and he lowers his lips to her throat: soft skin, the hummingbird beat of her pulse, the feminine smell of her sweat. "This is what it's like," he says wonderingly, and she laughs in delight.

"You're the only person who shares my ability. It's my first time too." She touches a hand to his cheek, and they smile at each other almost shyly.

Gabriel catches Elle's hand, turning it carefully to look at the rubbed-red skin where the cuffs had confined her. It reminds him of that lifetime ago when she saved his life, the chafe of the noose on his neck that lingered for long days, and he lifts her hand to kiss the back of her wrist, then the inside of it. Her fingertips spark reflexively.

"That tickles!" He glances at her playfully, and she shivers under the intensity of his gaze. "I like it. Do it again." Her other hand curls against his chest, fingertips playing through his chest hair, and it's his turn to shiver.

"I have--" She tugs a little, and his eyes go wide, breath hitching. "A room. Here. At Pinehearst, upstairs..."

"Then sweep me off my feet, Romeo," she answers, winding her arms around his neck and kissing his full lower lip. "Or should that be Mario? Your princess _is_ in this castle." His chuckle is lost as he rises to his feet, already lifting her in his arms; his telekinesis makes short work of the locked door, and he cradles her small, weary body through the hallways, up the elevator, into the rooms that Arthur had provided with the ulterior motive of keeping his son exactly where he wanted him.

"Gabriel!" She squeaks when he sets her down on the bed, not releasing her hold on him; one tug pulls him willingly next to her, and she bites her lip looking at him in the sunlight, taking in his lean, well-toned physique, the points of his hips, dark eyes unhidden by glasses or by anger. "You're gorgeous," she whispers, and he flushes a little under her scrutiny and praise.

In the light, he can see what the dark cell had concealed-- Elle looks like she hasn't slept in days, lovely skin sallow, bruised in more than one place, eyes shadowed. He rubs a thumb over one cheekbone, watches her eyes fall closed at the touch, feels an unfamiliar but wonderful ache in his chest. "Let me take care of you, Elle," he says, and her lips turn up at the corners.

"You've already fixed my power on the fritz. What else are you planning?" She yields easily to his kiss, letting him lower her to the mattress and hover over her. Brushing her hair aside, he kisses under her right ear, catches the lobe between his teeth gently and relishes her gasp.

"Anything you'll let me get away with." His voice is low and heated, and Elle's reaction is immediate: she curls a leg around his hip, pulling him closer, and buries a hand in his hair.

"Go ahead and push your luck." Her voice gets breathier as his deepens, and he smiles into her neck before rising to kiss her again, sweet lips parting under his, every kiss a little less clumsy, a little more skillful. He figures her out one touch at a time, one fingertip at a time: the notches of her spine, the pulse beating quick in the bend of her elbow, the softness of her thigh where her leg keeps him close. "Mm. Gabriel, I haven't-- I don't really know what to do," she confesses into the soft shock of his hair as he kisses his way down her neck. Their eyes meet, equally wide, equally apprehensive for one moment; his sudden smile transforms his face into radiant, almost boyish excitement.

"I can figure it out," he says, pushing up her purple top until the bottoms of her breasts are just visible, pale curves soft under the pads of his thumbs. She breathes in sharp, and he bends, eyes fixed on creamy skin and the stiff pink points of her nipples as they come into view. His lips approach, and neither of them expects the blue spark that jolts from his mouth to her breast.

"Ah! Oh, oh wow," Elle breathes. His laugh is warm on her skin, delighted, and he tries again; this time his lips make contact without lightning accompanying them, but Elle can still feel the electricity in him, in her, straining to make a circuit once more. Gabriel's cheeks are just a shade away from smooth, a bare hint of stubble dragging across her skin that makes her feel oversensitive and exhilarated. She pulls off her shirt, eager to give him access to all of her skin, and he rests his forehead on her collarbone, breath teasing the skin between her breasts, inhaling the scent of her.

When he pulls back, Gabriel trails his hand down her body from shoulder to breast to hip, eyes dark and hot as they take her in. "You are so beautiful." She smiles up at him dreamily, curls a hand behind his neck and pulls him close again.

"Just keep touching me," she demands, stealing small, spark-enhanced kisses; they give and take voltage with every move, his electric mouth on her nipples as he removes her pants, her fingers arcing blue light against his ribs on her way to undo his pants. They strip down and cuddle up, hands taking their time to move to newly exposed skin. Elle is too shy to look down for more than a second. Gabriel is bolder, wants more, and his fingers trace the curves of her hips, the roundness of her bottom and the warmth that draws his fingers irresistibly up the insides of her thighs. "Be careful with me," she whispers as his hand comes around, fingertips teasing through the blonde curls at the apex of her legs.

"Shhh." He kisses her cheek gently, nuzzles against her like a reminder of his devotion. "I've got you all puzzled out. Just trust me."

"I do," she says, her hips rolling restless under his hand. "But for god's sake Gabriel, do something!" The finger that slides into her is a shock-- his hands are so big, nothing like her own, which were until now the only ones that had ever been inside her-- and he moves like he's looking for something, searching for what makes her tick like a watch, what winds her up. His eyes are closed, until he curls his finger and nudges something that makes her shake with a radiating shock of pleasure.

"There," he says with a grin, looking at her open surprise, and works a second finger in with the first, a tight fit that she welcomes with a sigh. He's never felt anything like this, how wet and slick she is, the heat that surrounds his fingers and warms his palm, damp curls and swollen flesh under his touch and the way her muscles flex when he touches her just right. "Tell me how it feels," he urges her, meeting blue eyes heavy-lidded with continued need.

"It-- god, your fingers, I've never felt so full!" Her thighs splay wider when he pumps his fingers, a deliberate slow drag against her inner walls and a twist of crossed fingers on reentry. "Ohhh. More, Gabriel, I want more of you, please." She arches her neck to kiss him, wet and clumsy and pleading, and he silences her with his mouth as he presses one more finger in, halfway surprised it fits, feeling her yield under his insistent pushing. He catches her soft cry, sucks on her trembling lower lip and finds her clitoris with the heel of his hand, distracting her from the momentary pain.

"Mm. Elle, you have no idea..." One more kiss, sweetly, and he shifts down on the bed, onto his knees to observe the wet glistening of her labia, the way her inner lips are so reluctant to let his fingers go on the outstroke. "I'm going to try something," he says decisively, and she whimpers as he pulls his hand away; he's mesmerizing when he licks his fingers clean, sucking each long digit, eyes half-closed and dark with lust. For the first time since this began, she can see his erection fully exposed: he's thick, more than his three fingers together, long and straining up toward his stomach, skin flushed red. Elle bites her lip, staring with curiosity and a bit of trepidation.

"Are you gonna--?" His eyes flick toward her face, and he smiles with belated shyness.

"Not yet." What he wants to try is nothing she's expecting: he lifts her hips with strong hands, lowers his head, and drags his tongue through the slick ravine. Elle quakes, sound failing her, and paws at Gabriel's shoulders while he maps her with the tip of his tongue: every fold of flesh, the exact shape of her clit (over and over, making her squeal and grab his hair and come hard around his replaced fingers twice in quick succession), the way her body tenses when he licks deeper into her. The way she reacts is fascinating, even more so when he tries out his new power, electricity buzzing through her most sensitive nerves and wringing her out until she's panting to catch a breath, pushing him away weakly.

"Stop, stop, don't." He looks almost disappointed when he lifts his face from between her thighs, until she smiles at him, sated and sweet. "I don't think I can take any more, it's too good." She holds out her arms, and he settles against her, one hand cupping a breast, his cock throbbing hot against her hip, all whiplash angles and desire. Elle swallows and kisses his forehead, still shaky. "What do you want, Gabriel? Tell me what to do."

He doesn't answer her aloud, simply takes her hand and leads it to where he needs it, her small fingers swallowed in his as he shows her the rhythm he likes best. "Jesus. I have to buy some condoms soon. I want you so much, Elle, I'm aching for you..." She can feel the truth in his words, the throb of him in the almost-too-small circle of her hand, and it's so hard not to break down and beg him to enter her right then.

It's not time, though. She needs a shower, some sleep, a while to cuddle with him first; her first time is supposed to be something special, and while this is pretty fucking spectacular, she has a feeling that they're only going to get better as they learn each other. The beat he likes is simple enough, and Gabriel's hand falls away when Elle brings her other one in to curl above the first, pumping him with both petite hands and watching his handsome face go slack and sweet as he approaches the edge. "Let go," she urges quietly, her hair falling to tickle his neck and chest. "I want you, I want to know I'm doing this to you. Let me see," she says, and on any other person that face would look silly but it's _Gabriel_ and _she's_ the one who's making him come and that changes everything about his furrowed brow and panting mouth and the sound of her name drawn out in a low moan.

Once she looks lower, though, that's a little weird. A scant sex-ed class hadn't prepared her for the messy reality; her hands and his furry lower belly are coated in come, and he's slowly going soft in her hands... but he looks so happy, and she feels wonderful, so she wipes her hands off on the bottom edge of the blanket, dabs neatly at his stomach, and then rolls on top of him, smiling and touching her nose to his.

"Hey, you." He laughs at her casual words and wraps his arms around her, warm on her bare skin.

"Hi." They kiss, slow and lazy and satisfied, until Elle lays her head against Gabriel's shoulder.

"I'm exhausted. Is that normal?" He shrugs, but uses his telekinesis to lift her up before he drags the blankets out from under them, shoving the top one off entirely. He sets her gently next to him and pulls the covers up to her neck; she immediately snuggles up to his side.

"After the day you've had? I'd say it's normal," he teases lightly. She hums agreeably, not bothering with words when there are so many nonverbal ways to tell him she's happy. Neither one of them will ever be certain who falls asleep first.


End file.
